


Desperation, Solution, Conclusion

by elaiel



Series: Going Home Universe [1]
Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Childbirth, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Oral Sex, Pregnancy, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-27
Updated: 2012-08-27
Packaged: 2017-11-13 00:54:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaiel/pseuds/elaiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Camile Wray has an unusual request for Young.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Desperation

It was late, very late, but she knew he was alone tonight. TJ was keeping watch over a patient with a high fever in the Infirmary, their on off relationship was common knowledge on the ship. She stood in the dark, uncertain, scared that he would not be willing to listen to her. Finally, she knocked on his door.

After a couple of moments he answered the door. Blinking slightly sleepily and running fingers through his hair. He looked surprised to see her.

“Everett.” She said.

“Camile,” he said concerned, “it’s late, is everything okay?”

“Can I come in?” she asked. “Everything’s fine. I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure, come in.”

He stepped back to let her in, and gestured to the couch, taking a seat on the bed opposite her. Camile sat down and then shifted uncomfortably.

“Is there a problem?” he asked curiously. She was normally so composed.

“Not exactly.” She said. “It’s...personal.”

His eyebrows raised.

“I know,” she said, “I’m the only person on the ship without a personal life.”

He gave her a slightly sympathetic look.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said. “You’re probably less, ah…”

She smiled a little ruefully.

“That’s part of the problem I guess.” She said.

He looked surprised again. She settled back against the back of the chair, trying to relax.

“We’ve been out here five years or so.” She said.

“Eight years, four months and fifteen days,” he said, “including three years and fourteen days of stasis.”

She stared out of the porthole, then took a deep breath.

“I’m not getting any younger.” She said. ”And since Lisa and Greer have proved it can be done safely on Destiny…”

He got her message suddenly.

“Are you...?” he asked, the question hung in the air. “I thought…”

“That I’m gay?” she said. “I am, and I’m not...the other. But I’d like to be.”

He looked even more surprised.

“Are you asking me?” he asked, slightly shocked.

“Yes.” She said. “To be honest I’ve been thinking about having a baby for a while. We were, well, thinking about it before I ended up on the Destiny, had even found a gay friend who would donate, wanted to be involved even if we raised the child.” She paused and looked away again. “We were both pretty desperate.”

He sat on the bed, waiting for her to finish, although he knew what her question had to be.

“There isn’t anyone else here I trust, or feel close enough to to want to even try this. I never even experimented with men.” She took a deep breath. “I trust you, I think I could even enjoy it with you.” She said, then shook her head apologetically. “That sounds so clinical.”

He looked at her for a long moment then spoke.

“You know things are complicated…”

She nodded.

“Between you and TJ and TJ and Varro.” She stated. “I can handle that. I’m not looking for a long term relationship.” She smiled. “I’m looking for a long term friendship with someone who wants to have a baby.”

He sat there, watching her, face thoughtful.

“I’ll understand if you need some time to think about it.” She said. “I won’t be offended if it isn’t something you feel you can do.”

He rose to his feet suddenly. She took it for a dismissal and stood reflexively. She took a step forwards to go to the door, and was surprised as he reached out and took her hand. She turned to him as he drew her towards him, and planted a gentle kiss on her lips.

“I think I’m willing to give it a try, at your pace.” He said. “A solid friendship is a good place to start.”

Camile smiled, and gently, cautiously, experimentally, kissed him back.

He smiled at her as she drew back. “Any child could do a lot worse.”


	2. Solution

Everett stood outside Camile’s door. The uncomfortable conversations were now past, but they replayed in his head as he sought for the courage to hit the door release.

“Camile has asked me to do something for her.”

“Oh?” TJ looked at him curiously as she folded her laundry.

Everett laid it all out to TJ’s undeniable surprise. She stood looking at him silent and startled.

“I’m going to do it.” He finished. “I know you’ll find this hard, but I’ve never asked you to be exclusive and I’d like you to offer the same to me.”

Various emotions flickered over TJ’s face.

“This is really important to you isn’t it?” she said.

“We’ve been here a long while.” Everett said. “And for all Camile has done on the ship, for the crew, no-one has ever been able to do anything for her.” He stared at the table. “We’ve had our differences, but after these years here Camile is my friend and she trusts me enough to let me near her, enough to ask me to do this with her.”

“Just friends?” asked TJ.

“Just friends.” Everett repeated. “Even if I did want more, which I don’t, I think I’d be disappointed seeking a long term relationship with the only lesbian on the ship wouldn’t I?” he said wryly. “Once she’s pregnant we go back to being friends.”

“And co-parents.”

“Yes.”

TJ took a deep breath and stared around the room, face a little pained. She pressed her lips together.

“There’s things I can do to help.” She said. “Some of the equipment here that we learned to use for Lisa and Greer might be of use, and I can help her establish the best days to…”

Everett nodded.

He stood in the corridor and pushed the hair out of his face. Camile had come to see him earlier in his room, standing uncomfortably by the table.

“TJ says it’s a good day today.”

He had stood, nervous and self-conscious.

“Are you sure.”

She had nodded, a tense tight movement. “She did tests. The medical system…”

“Shall I come and see you later?” He asked uncertainly.

“That would be…nice.” She said.

He had given her a small smile and she had smiled back and left.

And now here he stood nervously, waiting on her doorstep, in his newest not quite linen shirt and old BDU pants. He took a deep breath and hit the door alert. She opened the door almost immediately.

“Come in.” She said.

He walked in and she closed the door behind him. The stood there looking at each other. She was wearing a loose white camisole type top, with a border of embroidered lace around the bottom. He recognised it as some of Chloe’s broderie anglaise embroidery which he knew was coveted by the female crew members, and a pair of loose trousers in a similar fabric. It must be her sleep wear.

“Well this is uncomfortable.” He said.

She grinned weakly. “It’s a little strange.”

“I brought some of the latest.” He pulled out a small flask.

She looked worried. “I don’t want to be…”

“No,” he cut in, “there’s only a little here. Not enough to get you drunk or knock you out. It may just be my ego talking but I’d like to think I can help you enjoy at least some of tonight.”

“Sorry.” She apologised. “I shouldn’t have thought that.”

He reached out and took her hand. “It’s understandable.” He said. “You’re nervous.” He laughed. “I’m nervous. I’m likely to be the only man you’ll ever, well,” he paused, “that’s a lot to live up to.”

She laughed suddenly. “Performance anxiety?”

“You betcha.” He admitted.

They smiled at each other, the admission taking the edge off the awkwardness and she went to the cabinet by the bed and took out a couple of glasses he recognised as some of Atienza’s first attempts at glass blowing. Slightly wobbly and imperfect, but charming in the light of what they represented to the community, new skills, new resources, new options.

He poured them both a small glass and handed her one. She sipped at it.

“This stuff is getting better.” She noted. “Either that or my standards are lowering.”

He smiled. “I think you’re definitely lowering your standards.” He said a little self deprecatingly.

“Shall we sit down?” She asked. “We could sit on the bed? Maybe talk for a bit?”

He walked over to the bed and putting the flask down on the bedside table, kicked off his shoes and sat down on the end. He sprawled himself across the bottom of it, laying on his side propped up on his elbow, knees tucked up. It reminded him of nights in barracks with friends, sprawled in each others quarters talking about anything and everything. It seemed less charged, and less sexual, leaving her the head of the bed, ownership of it.

She sat herself down on the head of the bed, and leaned back on the pillows sipping at the evil liquor.

“So, what do we talk about?” She asked. “I’ve never done this before.”

“It’s a first for me too, and it’s a long while at my age since I’ve planned to sleep with anyone new.”

“Or inexperienced.” She noted.

He laughed.

“There’s a whole bunch of embarrassing stories I could tell you about my fumbling inexperience when I was younger.” He looked at her and took another mouthful of alcohol. “It’s always odd and a bit uncertain with someone new, I can’t see that’s any different what sort of people you’re in bed with.”

She shook her head with a smile. “It’s even worse as a lesbian.” She admitted. “You don’t even get the grade school playground roadmap. Everything I got told as a teenager about sex was heterosexual. I didn’t have the first clue when I finally ended up in bed with another girl who was meant to do what and to whom.”

He tipped his head to one side.

“But you worked it out?”

“Oh yeah, we worked it out.” She nodded, smiling. “We only lasted a semester but it was an amazing semester.”

He laughed. “First time I ended up in bed with a girl I came before I got anyway near having sex.” He said. “She been doing something with her hands which blew my mind and let me take off her bra and it was all too much for my seventeen year old libido to take.” He grinned with an embarrassed look. “Claire Thomas her name was.” He said “She wasn’t impressed, she’d stolen a condom from her older brother specially, picked a day when the whole family were out, and I made a mess of her sheets.”

It was her turn to laugh.

“Did the two of you ever manage it?” She asked.

“Oh yeah.” He said. “About half an hour later. The joys of being a teenager, you don’t have to wait so long for another try.”

She reached for the flask and topped up her glass, then moved herself down the bed to top up his. He noted she didn’t move back to the pillows, stayed sprawled on her side a couple of feet away.

“You know.” He said. “I don’t even know what…lesbians do in bed.”

She shrugged. “I guess what you’d expect, hands, oral, rubbing up against each other, you can get off that way very nicely.”

He raised eyebrows. “I’d kinda guessed about the hands and the oral, but not the other.”

“It’s called tribady.” She said.

He took a drink to cover up the fact he didn’t know what to say next.

“I guess I kind of know all the mechanics of heterosexual sex. It’s kind of hard not to.” She said. “I’d even thought about what it would be like, but never actually considered doing it.”

“Have you always known you were gay?” he asked.

She nodded. “Since I was about twelve.” She said. “I never really looked at guys that way.”

He felt he needed to say something, but came out with an awkward. “You know I don’t have any illusions about “converting” you.”

She nodded. “If I thought you did, you wouldn’t be here.”

“I’d like you to enjoy it though.” He said. “As much as possible.”

She reached out and put her hand over the hand that was holding his glass.

“It’s okay.” She said. “I want this. I may not know what to do with you, but I’m guessing you know what to do with a woman.”

He laughed and looked away. “I’ve had some experience, yeah.”

He lifted himself a little, swapped the glass into the other hand and reached down and put it on the floor on the other side of the bed. She looked nervous, but he simply took her hand and ran his fingers up the soft skin on the inside of her wrist. She tensed, and then as he stroked gently up and down the inside of her arm, relaxed and closed her eyes. He realised that though he wasn’t the partner she would otherwise have chosen she must be pretty starved for human touch and he pressed a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist, startling her. Her eyes opened and she looked at him in surprise.

He shifted position and took her hand in his, gently massaging her hand, stroking his thumbs over her palm and his fingers down the back of her hand, then pulling it to him again to kiss her palm. Her eyes were closed and her face had softened and she let him pull her a little closer as he kissed her palm.

He swapped her hand into the hand he was leaning on and reached out and ran fingers down her cheek. She turned her head into the touch as he tucked her hair behind her ear. His fingertips slid back and forth over the line of her jaw before running down the muscles of her neck to trace her collarbone and cup her shoulder.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

She opened her eyes, and moistened her lips with her tongue before she spoke.

“Okay, that’d be…okay.”

He leaned forward, resting on his elbow and kissed her carefully, only their lips and the fingers of his hand on her shoulder touching. She kissed him back, cautiously. He was surprised when it was she who deepened the kiss, reaching up to cup his cheek and flickering her tongue across his lips. She pulled back.

“Is it different?” he asked.

“You have bigger lips and stubble.” She said. “It’s different.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“You asked.” She said. She leaned in and kissed him again. It felt tentative and experimental. He ran his finger tips up and down her arm and let her kiss him, responding gently, worried about scaring her. He gently slid his lips round to kiss the point where her jaw met her neck, kissing round behind her ear and along the line of her neck and shoulder. She tipped her head to give him access and he could feel her fingers playing with the curls at the back of his neck.

He shifted his weight forward a little and cupped her shoulder with the palm of his hand, kissing down her collar bone towards the slight swell of her breast. With his thumb he slid the strap of her camisole off her shoulder and ran his tongue down her breast to circle her nipple. She gasped and he did it again, knowing he was doing something right as it came erect under his tongue. Leaving it wet with his saliva he cupped the breast with his palm, rubbing his thumb over the wet nipple as he went for the other one. Trapped under her camisole, he mouthed it gently with his lips through the fabric as he rubbed the other, listening to the hitch in her breath as he did so. He strained his eyes to look up at her face without stopping and could see her eyes were closed, head tipped a little sideways.

She realised he was looking at her and looked down at him.

“That’s nice.” She said. “Very nice.”

“Can I take your top off?”

There was a moment’s hesitation before she nodded and she shifted so he could slide it up over her head, immediately going back to lick at her nipple. His head followed her and he shifted himself forward as she lay back on the bed. He continued for a while, stroking his hands across the soft skin of her belly and sides, kissing across the spread of her collarbones then going back to revisit each breast in turn.

“Take your top off.” She murmured.

He looked across at her. She nodded, and he sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on the floor.

“I thought you’d be hairier.” She said looking at him curiously.

He shrugged. “Some guys are. I’m more so than when I was younger.”

She ran fingers across the light dusting of hair across his chest.

“It’s soft.”

He didn’t reply and she ran her fingertips over a nipple. As his lips parted at the sensitive touch she spoke.

“Do you like that, is it good?”

“I don’t know about all guys,” he said, a slight catch in his voice, “but it feels good to me.”

“You need to orgasm too.” She said. “I mean, I need you to enjoy this too, not just do...”

He laughed and then gasped as she pinched his nipple gently.

“I’m a guy, in bed making love to a beautiful woman, that part of this deal is assured.” He admitted.

She sat up, and with an uncertain look that somehow didn’t fit on a face of her maturity, slid her hand down to cup his crotch. He groaned in pleasure as she rubbed over it with the flat of her palm. Fumbling fingers undid the buttons at his crotch and he looked down as her slim fingers slid inside between pants and boxers.

“They get bigger when you’re excited.” She said. “I’ve never seen one like this in real life.”

She pushed his boxers down a little and freed it, looking at it in curiosity, taking it in her hand. She watched his reactions, closed eyes and an inhalation as she ran her hand up and down it, cupped his balls and rolled them gently in her hand. He slid his pants down a little to stop them digging in. She continued to explore him, stroking her fingers through the dark hair before going back to his cock.

“Camile.” He said hoarsely as she rubbed him up and down,

“You like that?”

“Oh yeah,” he said, “probably a little too much.”

He reached for her, moved her hands away from him and undid the drawstring of her pants. She looked a little worried, as he slid them down over her hips, as if she thought he would want to penetrate her there and then, but he spread her legs as he pulled off her pants and kneeling between her knees dived his face in to run his tongue from back to front between her legs.

She gasped and arched into his mouth and he ran his tongue hard over her clitoris before going back to lap at her labia and entrance. She was already a little wet and he could taste her becoming more so as he continued to work over her most intimate areas with his tongue. His knees began to be uncomfortable but he didn’t want to stop doing what was evidently giving her an awful lot of pleasure and he stretched his legs out to lie off the edge of the bed. His own weight pressed his erection into the bedspread and he found himself moving his hips, rubbing himself into the bed in time with the way her hips were grinding her into his mouth.

“Everett,” She said. “stop now, I’m so close.”

Her hands, caught his shoulders and pulled him upwards. He moved forwards, propped up on his hands.

“You want this now?” he asked. “It might be uncomfortable, you’ve not had a guy before.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said breathlessly. “I’ve not had a guy but I’ve had pap tests and other stuff. Any hymen I had is years past.”

He rolled onto his side next to her, not wanting to hold her down with his weight, and rolled her towards him onto her side, catching her leg and bringing her knee over his hip. She stared at him, eyes inches away.

He kissed her.

“Are you sure?”

She smiled. “Certain.”

Sliding his hand between them he ran his fingers over her, sliding them into her and out again to rub her clitoris. She was wet and slick and pressed herself into his fingers as he brought her close to orgasm again. When she was gasping and panting and pushing forward into him, he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him again so she sat with his penis erect in front of her. Taking her hips he lifted her away from him till she took her own weight a little, then positioned himself at her entrance holding himself steady in one hand and rubbing her clitoris with the other fingers.

“Sit yourself down.” He said.

She gradually slid herself down his erection, slowly, in her own time. He closed his eyes and concentrated on what he was doing with his fingers and not losing control to his orgasm. She was tight and wet and as he opened his eyes again, oh so beautiful as she gradually pushed herself down till her thighs hit his hips.

She stayed there, eyes closed, then looked at him.

“What does it feel like?” he asked.

“Full.” She said. “Very full.”

“Now you move yourself up and down.” He said. “It’s easier if you sit forward a little.”

“I thought it was you that did that.” She said.

“Not here, you’re in control.” He said, swiping slick fingers over the nerve driven centre of her.

She gasped and clenched. He gasped and tried not to buck up in reaction to it, he was so close.

“Will you still come?” she asked.

“If I don’t concentrate, I’ll come from you just sitting there.” He said gruffly. “When you come, you’re going to tighten up round me and I’m just going to go.”

He took her hand from where it rested on her knee and replaced his own hand at her clitoris with hers.

“Come on.” He said.

She began to touch herself, moving her hips only a small amount just to get the feel of him moving inside her. He dug his fingers into the bed sheets as she closed her eyes, masturbating as she sat on him, sliding just a little up and down him. It was so hot. Her long dark hair swayed with the movement of her and he reached up to touch it, then bringing his hands down ran both thumbs over her nipples. It seemed to be enough to take her over the edge and she cried out and contracted around him. Unable to help himself, he grabbed her hips and thrust up into her, coming in short sharp jerks of pleasure, but she didn’t seem to mind as she rode out her own orgasm.

He collapsed back on the bed as she sat there, running lazy fingers over the last of her orgasm.

“How was it.” He asked.

“Different. Pleasant” She said. “Do I get off now?”

He rolled them over again so she was on her back, and pulled out, propping himself up so he didn’t squash her. He pushed sweaty curls out of his face.

“Don’t want to waste any,” he said, “after all the effort we’ve gone to getting it in there.”

“It wasn’t a chore.” She said, looking up at him. She took a breath. “I’m still not into men…”

He smiled at her.

“…but I can get my head round the idea of sharing pleasure with a friend. With you.” She said. “It was nice, having you touch me, having you want me to feel good. It was nice making you feel good.”

“And that’s what matters.” He said. He slid off of her and went to sit up. “I guess I should leave.”

She took his arm.

“I think I’d like you to stay.” She replied. “Not for anything else. Just for friendship, company?” her tone was hopeful.

“I can do that."


	3. Conclusion

He was woken by the door alert. His watch told him it was two am and he rubbed sleepy eyes and made his way to the doorway. He opened it to see Camile standing on his doorstep looking tired and bulky in an oversized shirt and borrowed sweatpants.

“If this baby isn’t born soon I’m going to scream.” She said. “My back aches, and my feet ache, and my bed is uncomfortable…”

“And what you really need is a back rub and a hug?” he asked her, cutting in to her complaint.

She nodded with a sheepish grin and he stepped aside, inviting her in. She waddled in balancing her left hand on her huge bump as she made her way to the couch. She sat on the couch and he sat down next to her, rubbing the small of her back with the heel of his hand.

“That is heaven.” She said, closing her eyes ecstatically. “I knew there was a reason I chose you.”

He worked his way up and down her lower back as she groaned in pleasure.

“Oh that’s good.”

He came to a halt and looked at her.

“Feet?” he asked, gesturing to her puffy feet and swollen ankles.

“Would you?” she sighed. "God I hope this baby decides to be born soon."

She shifted awkwardly round to swing her feet up into his lap and he started to rub the sole of one of her feet, pressing his thumbs into the arch of her foot and manipulating it gently. Her breathing softened as she relaxed. He rubbed one foot and then the other, for about five minutes until his thumbs got tired. Her eyes opened again as he stopped.

“Do you and Baby want to stay for that hug rather than go back on your own?” he asked.

She nodded gratefully, sliding her feet off his lap. He stood and helped her up and over to the bed. She clambered in, and he slid in behind her, putting his arm over her and resting it on her bump. She snuggled back into him, stealing most of the pillow and crowding him to the edge of the bed. He rolled his eyes and felt her relax into the hug.

“Budge over.” He said.

“’Kay.” She said already sleepy and made a cursory attempt to scoot over further.

He gave up and reached out and turned the light, replacing his hand on her belly, where Baby lay apparently sleeping. He lay awake for a while reflecting yet again on the weirdness of the situation of laying in bed cuddling the pillow stealing friend who was also the lesbian mother of his future child but he fell asleep before it got past the vague sense that this really wasn’t how he expected to become a parent.

He woke immediately she gasped and grabbed at his hand. He propped himself up to look at her over her shoulder.

“Oh god!” she said.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I think that felt like…”

“A contraction?”

“I think so.” She said breathing heavily.

“I’ll call TJ.” He said, sitting up.

She grabbed his arm.

“Not yet, I don’t want to go if it’s just wind or something. Even if it is I’ve got a while yet, we can get some more sleep, We’ve gone over this with TJ.”

He looked at her, then lay back down and wrapped his arm over her. She leaned back into him. She seemed to go back to sleep but he couldn’t and lay there, wondering what the hell was going to happen. Whether it would be a boy or a girl? Would she really let him be there like she had said?

About twenty minutes later she groaned again and this time he held her as for about twenty seconds she rode out the contraction.

The third contraction came about fifteen minutes on and from then on they seemed to be regular gradually dropping to about every ten minutes. He realised that there was a distinct wet patch in the bed. He sat up and turned on the light.

“I’m calling TJ, You’ve been having contractions for over two hours now and I’m guessing that wet patch it your waters breaking.”

“Don’t you dare leave me here!” she snapped. “I’m going nowhere, I’m staying here and having this baby in privacy, not in the infirmary with an audience.

He slid out of bed and grabbed the radio then walked over to the door and left it unlocked before walking back to the bed.

“Bridge team this is Young.”

“Colonel?” It was Blake, one of the civilians assigned to monitoring the bridge.

“Can you have someone wake Lieutenant Johansen and tell her she’s needed in my quarters.”

“Is it time?” asked Blake. “Oh, that’s rude, I’m terribly sorry, I’ll let her know.”

Young put the radio down on the bedside table. Camile was sitting up, looking anxious and he got back into bed, and put an arm round her shoulders.

“Hey, don’t worry, this is all natural okay. TJ’s coming.”

“Don’t you dare leave, Everett.” She snapped.

“I’m not leaving.” He said. “No way would I miss this.”

The radio hissed and he snatched it up.

“Everett this is TJ.”

“TJ, we’ve started.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely, Camile’s been having contractions for about two hours now, they’re a bit more than every ten minutes and her waters are breaking.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“The doors’ unlocked.”

TJ arrived two minutes later, tying her hair back from her face as she walked in.

“How are you feeling Camile?”

“Like I’m ready to have this baby.” She said.

Everett watched and held Camile as TJ took a stethoscope and listened to Camile’s stomach, pronouncing it a nice healthy heartbeat. He felt almost detached as he found himself helping Camile walk about, rubbing her back as she leaned against the wall and pouring her a glass of water, TJ coming and going and checking things on a regular basis.

It seemed to take forever, though it was only another three hours, before things started to speed up. He found himself sat on the floor, holding up a squatting, screaming Camile as she pushed as directed by TJ. It was the single most terrifying experience of his life so far, actions moving out of his control, seemingly never-ending, Camile swearing and yelling and leaving bruises where her fingers dug into him.

And then, suddenly, Camile was panting and TJ was laughing, and passing Camile a damp red bundle of tiny limbs that immediately started to scream. She let go of Everett and let him hold her up as she held the baby.

“He’s got good lungs.” Said TJ.

“It’s a boy?” he asked.

“Well he certainly appears to have everything you’d expect of one.” TJ said smiling.

Practicalities happened, cord and placenta and washing and then changing the bed linen, until finally Camile was ensconced back in his bed and he was in a fresh shirt, stretched out next to her on top of the covers.

He stared at Camile and the baby. The pregnancy that had proved incredibly so easy to conceive, the bump and pregnancy sickness and ailments he had supported Camile through to the best of his abilities as a friend for nine months. The baby he had agreed to have with his friend. His child, their son.

“Alexander.” Camile said, quiet with exhaustion. “If you don’t object, Alexander Wray-Young.”

Finally, drained, exhausted but elated, holding his friend and his son, Everett cried.


End file.
